


rings and things

by alesford



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-3x03, Season 3 Spoilers, Spoilers, Wynaught Brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alesford/pseuds/alesford
Summary: Wynonna engages in some light breaking and entering but it's okay because it's only the house of a sheriff's deputy, who happens to be dating her sister and who also happens to keep a really,reallynice bottle of scotch locked away in her desk. Really, she just needs an answer to a question or two. Maybe three. There's not supposed to be math.Post-3x03.





	rings and things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Earper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earper/gifts).



> This odd little story goes out to @viking_elf on Twitter, who tweeted this lovely observation.
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> I hadn't intended to write anything coming out of 3x03 (what a doozy!) but here we go. At least it's fluff this time? As always, thank you for reading. I do appreciate your kudos and comments.

 

**rings and things**

 

-

 

It's been more than a couple days since Nicole actually stepped foot inside of the house that she still rents from Mr. Gagnon for an absurdly low amount of money. She needs to talk to him about breaking her lease, considering she more or less lives at the homestead these days. Not to mention, you know, more protective ammolite and fewer revenants trying to get at the Earps by going through her.

 

It could probably be considered ironic if it weren't for the fact that she's almost died more than once since she fell in with them. That she feels safest on Earp land with Waverly and Wynonna beside her. Crazy chicks with guns, all right. Who needs a _Charlie's Angels_ reboot when you've got the Haught Earps?

 

She might be overcompensating with the snark and the sass lately. It's kind of the only thing holding her together since, well... since Boot Hill and a memorial held in the freezing cold with the wind whipping at their faces. It wasn't the winter chill that brought tears to their eyes, though. As much as they wished that's all it was.

 

But it's been more than a couple days. More than a couple days spent in a house that has been far too quiet for housing two Earps, one of whom is in a state of perpetual drunkenness and the other, who is more often than not so eager to share something new that she's learned or an interesting tidbit she encountered that day. Too quiet for a house that's usually so full of life.

 

The quiet feels different in this house that isn't really her home anymore. Calamity Jane isn't here; instead, she's curled up on the bed that Nicole shares with Waverly more nights than not. More than half of her clothes have slowly shifted from one closet to another on the outskirts of town. It's dark and peaceful and—

 

A lamp clicks on and the fluorescent light bulb bathes the room in an eerie cool blue.

 

Nicole reaches for her sidearm immediately, drawing it on the figure still bathed in shadow, sitting on the chair in the corner of the living room.

 

"Haught," she hears, and she'd know that slurred drawl anymore.

 

"Holy shit, Wynonna. What the hell?" Nicole swears, setting her Glock on the nearby end table rather than returning it to the concealed carry holster at the small of her back.

 

"I thought you'd be back sooner." Wynonna pushes to her feet and she stumbles a few steps forward, catching herself on the side of the sofa. In the dim light, Nicole can see that she's got Peacemaker in one hand and the good bottle of scotch she'd been saving for a special occasion in the other.

 

_Damn it, Wynonna._

 

“And I maaay have picked the lock to the desk drawer where you keep the good shit.” She holds up the half empty bottle, as if Nicole couldn’t already see that she had guzzled down sixty dollars worth of liquor.

 

“Damn it, Wynonna. What are you doing here? I thought you and Waverly were having _sisterly bonding time_ tonight?”

 

It isn’t Nicole’s fault if she sounds the tiniest bit petulant. She loves Waverly and she loves Wynonna, but sometimes, some days she still feels like the outsider looking in. There’s a bond that the two of them possess that’s thicker and more dangerous than hot tar; you definitely don’t want to be on the wrong side of it and ought to approach with caution.

 

Wynonna lifts the bottle to her lips and swallows a healthy glug, oblivious to the way Nicole’s jaw tenses at the sight as she wipes her mouth with the back of the hand holding that old Buntline. “She bailed again. Said she needed to go see Doc about something blah blah something. Not really sure what. I think it was half Swedish.” She shrugs, entirely unperturbed by the idea of her sister running off to do god knows what. Nicole supposes that all of them have had to learn how to stand on their own two feet lately.

 

Nicole folds her arms over her chest, slipping into authoritative cop mode without exactly meaning to do so. She glances at the digital clock on the desk near the stairs. It reads 22:37 — not really late but not the most appropriate time for a social call. Not that Earps ever do appropriate or even know the meaning of the word.

 

“So what are you doing here? In my house?”

 

“I needed to talk to you,” Wynonna mumbles, moving around to the front of the couch so she can sink into its cushions while still cradling the scotch close to her chest.

 

Nicole raises an eyebrow. “About?” she asks.

 

She should be concerned about the casual way Wynonna swings that loaded pistol to and fro in her direction. Her finger is still on the trigger guard, at least, and Nicole _hopes_ that Peacemaker, that temperamental bitch of a gun, wouldn’t let the heir shoot her. She’s also not keen on another gunshot towards an Earp hat trick when it comes to Wyatt’s great-granddaughters shooting at her. Still, Wynonna hasn’t shot her… yet.

 

“Well?” she prods when the only response she receives is a glare. The single light on begins to feel a little like shitty television interrogation tactics.

 

Wynonna’s eyes narrow and drift down toward… Nicole’s boobs?... and then back to the redhead’s face that’s scrunched in confusion. It takes her only a second to realize that Wynonna’s gaze was focused on her hands and not her chest — her left hand, to be more specific.

 

(And specificity really is everything when you’re a cop. Details matter. Even the ones that might not seem so important at the time.)

 

“That,” Wynonna grounds out, now properly pointing Peacemaker at Nicole’s chest with unwavering aim despite more than enough alcohol to knock any normal person on their ass.

 

“My ring.” Nicole unfolds her arms, spinning the ring around her middle finger with the pad of her thumb. It isn’t a question. She’s smart. Wynonna’s smart. She’s too tired to play the role of confused lesbian who happens to be dating her best friend’s little sister.

 

“Your ring,” Wynonna says with a nod. She sets the bottle down onto the coffee table with a solid _clunk_. She doesn’t stand, however; she just leans back into the couch cushions, leveling Nicole with her most intimidating intoxicated scowl. “Waverly has the same one.”

 

Nicole nods. “She does. We bought them off Etsy.”

 

“They’re matching.”

 

“They are.”

 

“When?”

 

“A month ago.”

 

“Why haven’t I noticed?”

 

Nicole deigns to answer and stares blankly at the other woman.

 

Wynonna snorts. “Fair,” she says with a shrug.

 

“Anything else you want to know?” Nicole questions, finally moving to plop down onto the sofa. She reaches for the bottle of scotch, saying, _Fuck it,_ in her head and swigging straight from it. Class be damned.

 

Wynonna hums, and it isn’t the mocking sort of thinking. It’s the serious sort of thinking, the kind that makes Nicole sit up straighter and pay sharper attention.

 

“You’ll still be around, right? You and Waves? Even after you two get married and ride off into a rainbow sunset on a unicorn while George Michael serenades you?”

 

“Wha— how even…?” Nicole shakes her head, ignoring _that_ particular description that’s absurd for multiple reasons. “We’ll still be around, Wynonna. We’re not going anywhere. And we’re not getting married… not yet, anyways.”

 

“Dude, matching rings.”

 

“A different sort of sign of commitment,” Nicole answers simply. “I love Waverly, and I would be absolutely thrilled if she would do me the honor of being her partner in this life and the next, but we aren’t there, yet. We’re happy where we are and this—” She holds up her middle finger, well aware that she’s purposefully flipping Wynonna the bird. “ —is a promise to be by her side for as long as she’ll have me because where she goes, I go.”

 

Wynonna squints suspiciously at at her before scoffing. “Yeah, you two are sickeningly cute. Absolutely, disgustingly adorable.”

 

She fake gags. As she does. All the time. Again.

 

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Thanks, Wynonna,” she drolls.

 

“Anytime, Haught.”

 

She waits a beat and then another. Nicole can almost hear the words turning in Wynonna’s head like gears and cogs straining to run smoothly.

 

Finally, in the pale blue glow of the fluorescent lightbulb and the moonlight through the window, Wynonna turns to Nicole without sarcasm or malice in her eyes. In this moment, they’re bright and clear and sober — at least for this singular moment.

 

Yeah. It’s definitely a moment. Maybe even a Kodak moment if the light was actually any good.

 

Because Wynonna tells her, “I’m okay with it, you know. If you wanna marry Waverly. I’m okay with it.”

 

It’s as much of a blessing that Nicole will ever get, but it’s meaningful and significant.

 

Yeah. Definitely a moment.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again, friends!


End file.
